Ernest
Hemingway’s short story was adapted into two very different films, though both
somehow manage to capture the essence of the narrative while maintaining
stylistic individuality from both the source material and each other. First was
Robert Siodmak’s classic 1946 black-and-white adaptation, which is now
considered an iconic example of the post-World War II film noir genre. Producer
Mark Hellinger originally wanted to borrow Warner Brothers director Don Siegel
to direct this early version, but he eventually made his own adaptation in 1964
as the first planned made-for-TV movie. While the first is a classic example of
the shadowy style that noir is best known for, Siegel’s version became a gritty
adaptation in full color and violence in broad daylight. Both have distinctly
different approaches to the same material, making for one of the few narratives
with both adaptations fittingly paired together in one package.

Although “House
of Cards” is a show about politics, the structure of the popular Netflix series
often has more similarities to a gangster narrative. These crime narratives
contain illegal activities which catapult the antihero to a position of fame
and/or fortune, which is what we witnessed from Francis Underwood (Kevin
Spacey) in the first two seasons of the show. At the end of season two
Underwood had manipulated, lied, and murdered his way into becoming the
President of the United
States. If the first two seasons resembled
the rise to the top paralleled in the gangster genre, season three is the
beginning of the inevitable fall. President Underwood may not go out in a blaze
of gunfire like Scarface or Walter White (unless assassination is in his
future), but instead becomes a victim of the very system he used to obtain
control.

The films to
come from Adam Sandler’s company, Happy Madison, have reached a level of such
terrible reputation in the last decade that I somehow imagined even the worst
productions from years ago to surpass the likes of Jack and Jill or the Grown
Ups franchise. I may have been allowed to keep this disillusion going, as I
can’t imagine a situation beyond the need to review a newly released Blu-ray
that ever would have led me to re-watch Joe
Dirt. But because this awful comedy is receiving an unnecessary
straight-to-video sequel nearly 15 years after its release, Joe Dirt has been given a high
definition release in conjunction, just to remind us how little the franchise
needs to be continued.

Sean Penn has a
somewhat humorless reputation, having proven himself unable to take jokes told
in good fun at award ceremonies and a tendency to align himself with projects
with more serious tones. Combine this with his stance in political and social
matters and it soon becomes difficult to imagine Penn involved in any type of
escapist entertainment. I don’t know if The
Gunman was adjusted to fit his sensibility or if the material was simply
weighed down by the somberness of the star, but the result is an action
thriller that is never as fun as it should be.

Danny Collins is a crowd-pleasing film,
as it should be. Though the premise of the film may have been loosely based on
a real event, writer and first-time director Dan Fogelman approaches the
material with a mild genre mentality. This makes for extremely predictable and
passively entertaining film, however safe and unimpressive the experience
feels. There may be a great film in here, but this feels like the watered down
version of that movie.